Chocolate Milk

When I was in high school, I never ate lunch in the cafeteria. I never belonged to a group of people that I felt comfortable sitting with. If I ever dared to enter the café, I would find myself searching for a place to be, while all at the same time not maintaining eye contact with anyone at the forbidden cool kids table. With my palms sweating and heart racing, suddenly my appetite would be non-existent. Most days, I would sneak into the lunch line just to get Chocolate Milk to hold me over for the next few hours until I could be in the safety of my kitchen after school, watching General Hospital and eating multiple bowls of cereal.

Yesterday, I was walking toward our office lunch area to get my salad out of the fridge. When I got there, all of the tables were full. I froze. Immediately, I was back in front of the entrance of my high school cafeteria. My heart raced and suddenly my feet were taking me back to my cubicle without the salad that my stomach was grumbling for.

It has dawned on me recently that I still do not find comfort in numbers. Strangely enough, in my early high school days, I was Class President and even stood in front of hundreds of people making speeches at leadership conferences. I used to sing the National Anthem as a Varsity cheerleader at all of the basketball games. I loved performing on stage and being the center of attention.

Now, when I am caught off guard or spoken to in front of a group of people that I don’t know well, I immediately break out into hives on my neck and blush profusely. It is so ridiculous that even when I was walking down the aisle on the happiest day of my life, I was covered in hives from my neck to my elbows. I’ve even been at dinner tables with my own family members and find the hair on the back of my neck standing up when spoken to and all eyes are on me.

It is becoming inconvenient in my connections with other people. When I am on the phone, I feel awkward and cornered. I hate it! This is coming from a girl that used to be grounded for talking on the phone until one in the morning when I was a teenager. I’d rather text or email than pick up the phone. Call it impersonal or cowardly, but I call it freeing! I don’t know why...

I’ve figured out that the only way I can get myself around this ridiculousness, is by facing the music head on. I’ve been forcing myself to talk to people in line at the Keurig machine at work. At dinners with friends and relatives, I now subject myself to the ultimate torture by making heart- felt toasts. And I have also found that by pacifying myself with alcohol, my inhibitions disappear and I can stand on my own two feet in a crowd without cringing or running for the nearest exit.

If only my drink of choice was Pino Grigio instead of Chocolate Milk back in the day, I bet I would have had an assigned seat at the cool kids’ table…